Chapter 16
Reid
Past
The strings are warm beneath my calloused fingers. This chord progression in the new song we’ve been working on tripped me up all night in rehearsal, so as soon as I got back to the house, I shut myself away in my room to play it over and over again until it was perfect.
I don’t want to let the guys down as we prepare for our show this weekend.
One of the local bar owners agreed to let us have a forty-five minute set and to lower the age of admission for the evening.
It’s our first big show we’ve gotten to do, and I’ve barely been able to sleep this week as excited nerves course through my body.
I hum along to the melody and let it flow through me, feeling the notes and the beat and not focusing on them individually.
The fluidity of playing music is one of my favorite parts.
When I feel it begin in the pit of my stomach and ooze throughout the rest of my body until it comes out through my hands.
A gentle knock of the door rouses me out of the trance and I suppress a groan. If Patrick is coming to tell me to quit for the night, I’ll sneak down to the basement.
“Yeah?” I call out.
“Can I come in, please?” a small voice answers back, and I immediately shout back, “Come on in, Penny.”
The door opens with a loud squeak and Penny steps in the room, shutting it behind her once more. She has a big smile on her face and hair braided in two messy pigtails.
“Did you have a fun time at Jenny’s?”
She bounds over to my bed and flops on it, babbling the whole way about her night over at her friend’s house.
“And then, her brother let us play this new game he just got with him and it was so fun! It was just like your music but even cooler. They have drums and a guitar and a singer, but Jenny hogged the microphone all night. I got to play the guitar and I wasn’t very good, not like you, but maybe next time I’m over at her house I can practice some more.
Are you good at video games?” She talks so fast I can barely keep up with her, but I listen anyway.
I set my guitar aside and lean back in my desk chair. “Yeah, but I’ve never played the one you’re talking about.”
Her eyes get real big. “You haven’t? You’d probably be really good, you know since you play the real guitar. This one had buttons instead of strings though, so maybe not.”
“Maybe not,” I chuckle.
“I wish we could have video games here.” Her lower lip puffs out. “I wanted to keep playing, but Jenny’s mom said she needed to take me home or Gina would wonder where I was. I told her she wouldn’t care, but she didn’t believe me.”
I haven’t even seen Gina since I got home earlier. Might be her book club night or she’s out shopping somewhere. Who knows, and who cares.
“Do you think we could buy a video game? Maybe if I get a job we could split it!”
“You’re eleven,” I point out. “I don’t think many places are looking to hire eleven year olds.”
She crosses her arms. “You don’t know that.”
“I do, but whatever.” I grab my guitar and extend it toward her. “I know it sucks that we can’t have video games like other kids, or a lot of the things they do, but I have something even better. You want me to teach you to play the real deal?”
Her blue eyes go wide as she carefully takes the guitar from my hand. It sags a little in her grasp, unused to the weight of it, and I help her put it in her lap.
“Now, you hold it just like this,” I instruct her, moving her hands into the right position.
Her fingers look so small compared to mine.
“And I only want you to try playing it when I’m here, alright?
This is very special to me.” It’s the one and only possession I brought with me to Pittsburgh and this damned house after my mom went to jail and never looked back.
She looks up at me with pure wonder on her face. “And you’re letting me play with it?”
“Not play with it. But play it, yes. If you’d like to learn.”
She nods her head eagerly.
“Okay then.” I take her left hand and position her fingers over the neck. We spend a while going over where each one should go for two basic chords, and I grab a pick for her to try strumming it finally.
She’s way too excited about it and the earsplitting noise that comes off the guitar is honestly a debauchery compared to the serenity I create with it. But she giggles and does it again with less force and slightly more finesse that has me seeing some potential.
We practice late into the night until her shoulders start to sag with exhaustion and my own eyes grow bleary.
“Let’s call it a night, okay? We can do some more tomorrow.”
Penny yawns and I take the guitar back from her. “Thanks for letting me play with you.”
“You’re welcome. See, I told you. Much better than the fake guitar video game, right?”
“Yeah, I’m not so sad anymore. Jenny doesn’t have a real guitar. This is much cooler.” She raises her nose in the air and I can’t help the amusement that must show on my face. But with her, I never have to try to hide my emotions. Not like with anyone else.
“Much cooler,” I agree.
And for the next couple of months until I graduate and move to LA, we spend every night together learning to play the guitar.